


koinonia

by petrichor_rain



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dark, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 10:06:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5535860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrichor_rain/pseuds/petrichor_rain





	1. Chapter 1

i. 

when the blood trickles from his mouth / and his hand twists open the doorknob

You are ice  
Cold and cracking, your slip-slide danger hiding in apparitions of transparency.  
You are blades in darkness  
Existing without light, trading slices of breath exhaled from bleeding mouths.

The death threats are merely your own way of flirting,  
circling wolves that taunt and jab with sharply thrown glances of yellow eyes,

What you love is each other  
and the moments where you teeter on the cliff, a whisper of breath from his mouth enough to spill you into the next life.

There is no danger when you are here  
only the inches of flesh and bone that keep him from claiming your heart  
his teeth tearing through the wall of your chest to take the beating thing in his mouth  
bloody and savage. 

Your arteries are a map  
lines and arrows showing him where to slice and carve  
fine threads of red pumping saltwater through your body  
for he is the ocean, and you are only a fisherman. 

“My dragonfly, my Patroclus, my black-eyed fire,”  
he whispers-  
but the knives in the kitchen are singing for blood

you know how this one ends.


	2. Chapter 2

ii.   
cochlear gardens carefully tended / a sliver of glass stuck in your heart

Falling takes an eternity  
And nothing beats eternity except maybe your hands carving bloody slices of his heart  
even as he digs practiced fingers through your brain  
grey matter scrambling like eggs

You think of the cochlear gardens he must have tended in his youth  
eyes of god watching lives flicker in and out  
a garden of death.

Snails crawling across your eyelids  
their shells the only solid thing you know  
Other than the hard knowledge of his shirt buttons  
as your trembling fingers slip them through their holes

How appropriate you will land in the ocean  
his slack lips the last image branding itself on the back of your eyelids  
so much water  
filling your lungs and drowning your heart, salt overwhelmingly present on your tongue  
as you both burn for oxygen

This is the ending to a play no god took part in  
a story untouched by divine hands  
except in those moments that you thought your love for him must be legendary  
hanging in the stars with juliet and helen,

maybe he was the one they were writing about  
all those dead poets  
speaking of red roses and sweet nothings affectionately whispered with appropriate humility  
there is nothing humble in the way his eyes claim yours  
darkly burning, an empty void   
but he has peeled away the carefully stitched mask,

A rare gift, indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

iii.  
plaster crumbling from the chapel roof / murmured prayers that fall to the ground

candles flick shadows across long standing walls  
the doubts of your heart echoing in the space between your ribs

a valentine written on a broken man

how fragile are your bones  
weak things that snap under pressure  
bathing you in blood black as moonlight  
skin shivering at this stretching loneliness: sprung from your reluctance to meet the monster.

this is a holy space  
defiled by the shadowed knowing of your twisted hearts  
two great snakes in the darkness  
writhing across time and cities  
cracking bones,

shower steam too hot on your skin  
his touch too cold on your hip

where has sanity gone  
Wisdom no longer walks these streets

she cowers in terror.

she has seen what you will become.


	4. Chapter 4

iv.  
the landscape after cruelty / that is to say, a garden

the knives in the kitchen are singing for blood  
a savage opera, darling  
to which your ear is so perfectly tuned 

the frenzied gnashings of teeth are peculiarities I have learned to live with  
but only the curves of your softly shining lips are visible as you pour the wine  
claret and dark in the expensive glass  
fragile crystal no stronger than my steadily beating heart

your canines sit crooked in your grin  
you laughed when I called you the devil  
now I think you are something worse

you are the darkness behind the stars  
the emptiness of a shell when the snail has moved on to a larger home.

your home is the eighth circle 

and even the malebranche are scared of you.


	5. Chapter 5

v.  
his ribcage splintered open / your hand carefully reaching for his heart

the wrath of the lamb  
a reckoning painted in bold red stripes

you would drown me in the nile  
water turned to viscid red  
a holy communion of vital fluids  
no chalice necessary

i searched for your face in the encyclopedia  
a dissonant psalm sung by bodies stacked in the morgue  
i should have known there are no words for what you are  
pointing the way to radiance with dripping red fingers

no circle in Dante's hell   
is ready to receive your sins.


End file.
